


lights out

by zuzuzuuu



Category: UNIQ (Band)
Genre: M/M, Pantslessness, Possibly half-innocent half-sexual situations, canonverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 10:56:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4916875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zuzuzuuu/pseuds/zuzuzuuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Wenhan gets cranky, it's up to Sungjoo to take care of him, taking off his pants included.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lights out

**Author's Note:**

> No, not like that. But actually also exactly like that.

Sungjoo knows Wenhan is tired out of his mind when his normally cleanliness-obsessive roommate reaches their shared hotel room and just crashes headfirst into bed, uncaring of smudging makeup or the tight jeans he still has on. Sungjoo closes the door behind him as quietly as he can. He’s exhausted as well, but if Wenhan’s dead to the world then it falls to him to take care of them both. Sparing a glance at Wenhan’s barely-moving body, Sungjoo decides to take a shower first before he goes into war. ****

When he comes out, toweling dry his hair, Wenhan hasn’t moved an inch. He even still has his sneakers on, slightly scuffed from rushing here and there for today’s schedule. Sungjoo slips them and his socks off his feet and throws the whole ensemble to the side.

“Hey, don’t sleep yet,” he says, patting Wenhan’s calves. “At least take off your pants.” Wenhan makes a sound into the pillow that means he’s heard him, but is apparently too tired to do more than just turning over, flopping back into bed. His hands push away the hem of his shirt to unbuckle the belt holding his pants up around his delicate waist, but then actually pulling the pants off requires more effort than Wenhan is willing to expend.

Sungjoo sighs. “Han,” he says, shaking his roommate. “Wenhan, pants.” Hair still intact from hairspray, rings and bracelets circling his wrists and fingers, Wenhan’s eyes flutter, unable to stay open. “If you don’t take them off I will,” Sungjoo threatens, like he’s talking to a three year-old. Which Wenhan probably is.

“M’kay,” Wenhan says, and closes his eyes.

This is not the response Sungjoo had in mind.

He stares at the zipper of Wenhan’s pants, glinting tauntingly in the bedside lamp light, and suddenly feels a little regretful that he’d made the threat without thinking. Sungjoo takes a steadying breath. Then he reaches determinedly for it, brushing Wenhan’s hands away brusquely.

After popping the button and unzipping the jeans, they peel off like a second skin easily enough at first. Sungjoo tries his best not to accidentally also take off Wenhan’s boxers, but they slip down a little bit, exposing the clean lines of his pelvic bone, and Sungjoo hastily pulls the waistband back up. Wenhan makes a small noise at the feeling of warm fingers on his skin, but otherwise makes no protest when Sungjoo glances at his peaceful face.

“Up,” he instructs, patting the side of Wenhan’s butt. Wenhan obediently wiggles. Sungjoo continues fighting with the pants – why are they so tight, isn’t it uncomfortable – before he manages to yank them past Wenhan’s knees and off his legs with a flourish. He lets the satisfaction of triumph wash over him for a moment. Then he realizes he's been staring at the soft skin of the inside of Wenhan's sturdy thighs and hurriedly shifts his gaze to the chair, draping the battle loot of distressed jeans over it.

Phase One complete. "Now make-up," Sungjoo says aloud. Wenhan stirs from his spread-eagle position but doesn't get up. Sungjoo sits beside him, dipping the bed a little, and shakes his shoulders. "Go wash your face," Sungjoo says, lightly slapping Wenhan's chest. Wenhan wrinkles his nose and turns his head. "Come on, wash and then sleep. Munhan, Hanhan, Wenhan, Wenhan han han han han hannie -"

Wenhan grabs Sungjoo by the shoulder with an unexpectedly strong arm and pulls him downward. Sungjoo collapses onto the mattress with a surprised, "oof," and then the next thing he knows he's trapped, Wenhan's arm across Sungjoo's chest. The other hooks a bare leg around one of Sungjoo's and pulls them both onto the bed so that in the span of a few seconds, Sungjoo finds himself lying full-body on the hotel single-size bed, with no room to move without coming into contact with Wenhan's lithe warmth.

As if the action had used up all his available energy, Wenhan goes back to being still, his slow breaths coming in puffs against the side of Sungjoo's face the only indication that he's alive. Sungjoo turns to face him.

"My bed is over there," he tries.

"Mm."

"This is too small for both of us to fit."

"Ah."

"You still haven't washed your face," Sungjoo accuses. Wenhan cracks his eyes open. The simmering glower in his normally calm gaze, which comes out only when Wenhan is tired and people are In The Way, makes Sungjoo lean away subconsciously. He doesn't get very far, because the hand resting on his collarbone shifts the short distance to grab the back of his neck.

Wenhan squeezes once, gentle. "Later." The message conveyed, he intertwines their legs, straddling Sungjoo like he's a familiar bolster, and closes his eyes again.

Sungjoo falls silent. He lifts his hand, and then hesitantly rests it on Wenhan's waist. No response. Sungjoo has already been completely conquered, but in a last attempt, he says, "If you mention Yibo in your sleep when I'm beside you, I'm gonna -"

The lips that cover his are as soft as he always imagined them to be. They taste like the lipgloss the stylists put on for them this morning and the lip balm Sungjoo had offered to share with him, pleased at the happy curve of Wenhan's eyes. Sungjoo's muffled surprise is swallowed with a sharp inhale when Wenhan nibbles on his bottom lip with his bunny teeth like it's a carrot. He pulls away, inspects his handiwork, and then goes back to snuggling into the well of Sungjoo's clavicle.

"Too noisy," he mumbles like a petulant child, and the vibration goes past Sungjoo's ribcage and straight into his heart. "Sleep."

After a long minute of struggling to calm his heartbeat, Sungjoo bends his head downward to look at Wenhan's dark lashes and mini pout. Then, without meaning to, his breathing syncs to the rhythm of the rise and fall of Wenhan's chest, and Sungjoo falls asleep, cradling Wenhan in his arms.

 

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted: http://moving-square.livejournal.com/7099.html  
> i dont know what i was on when i wrote this, probably just really wanted sj to take off wh's pants for him haha


End file.
